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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27757768">Of Orchids and Ice Cream</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/kchocolate/pseuds/kchocolate'>kchocolate</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>SEVENTEEN (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Corporate, Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Jeon Wonwoo-centric, Kim Mingyu-centric, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 21:35:06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>13,171</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27757768</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/kchocolate/pseuds/kchocolate</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Wonwoo pushes the safety off his gun, putting the silencer off and taking aim. Slowly, he puts his finger on the trigger, his target locked and bullets ready to fly. </p><p>He thinks of the money that will be transferred into his account after this. He thinks of the sound the body will make as it falls, the heavy thud which will echo off the floor. He thinks of himself on a nice ride through Busan in a week’s time, the breeze rushing through his hair, as he drives under the starry sky. He thinks of his parents six feet under, hoping for him to redeem himself, to repent for his sins. </p><p>"I’m sorry."</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Boo Seungkwan &amp; Kim Mingyu, Boo Seungkwan/Chwe Hansol | Vernon, Choi Seungcheol | S.Coups &amp; Kim Mingyu, Jeon Wonwoo &amp; Kwon Soonyoung | Hoshi, Jeon Wonwoo &amp; Wen Jun Hui | Jun, Jeon Wonwoo/Kim Mingyu, Kwon Soonyoung | Hoshi/Lee Jihoon | Woozi, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added, Wen Jun Hui | Jun/Xu Ming Hao | The8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>38</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em>Lord help the woman who thinks she stands a chance</em>, Wonwoo thinks to himself as he downs his beer, if only an excuse to roll his eyes. The foul taste lingers in the back of his throat before he excuses himself, climbing the stairs to the third floor of the club. He can feel the woman’s eyes following him, hoping for him to glance back and gesture for her to follow too, one of his lazy smirks her ambrosia. A good time was a good time, Wonwoo knows from experience, but he was on duty. <em>No thank you</em>.</p>
<p>He made his way up the stairs one at a time, letting his feet drag as he pretended to take in the dance floor, not wanting to draw attention to himself. The club lights shone around him casting neon glows on the people dancing. So many people were enjoying themselves in such blasphemous acts that Wonwoo had to turn his gaze away. In disgust, maybe. Or perhaps in shame, for he had done much worse and would continue to do much worse in the future. </p>
<p><em>Well</em>, he sighed to himself, <em>no amount of repentance can save what you’re about to do anyway</em>. </p>
<p>His dark eyes scanned the lower floors, hunting for the man described to him. A tall, broad build covered in a maroon blazer and long hair tied up with the ribbon of his late daughter’s ballet shoes. He always thought sentimentality was a bit dramatic, and here was his proof. </p>
<p>Kim Jeonghoon, despite wearing ribbon in his hair, is the head of Gangnam’s most notorious gang, <em>Jeosungsaja</em> - the Angel of Death. He was an autocrat, known for terrorising its people and pushing drugs into the palms of children. He recruited the youth, fed them stories of heroes who gave up their lives for their gang, their loyalty profound, their deaths turned into a tale, convincing them of the glory that leading a gang life possessed. He couldn’t have been more wrong. </p>
<p>Wonwoo witnessed the man’s influence first hand, and the tattoo between his shoulder blades served as a constant reminder of his past. Though he could not see it, the feeling of burning metal pressed onto him never leaves, a forever itch, done by the same man who sips at a vodka two floors below.</p>
<p>Wonwoo pushes the safety off his gun, putting the silencer off and taking aim. Slowly, he puts his finger on the trigger, his target locked and bullets ready to fly. </p>
<p>He thinks of the money that will be transferred into his account after this. He thinks of the sound the body will make as it falls, the heavy thud which will echo off the floor. He thinks of himself on a nice ride through Busan in a week’s time, the breeze rushing through his hair, as he drives under the starry sky. He thinks of his parents six feet under, hoping for him to redeem himself, to repent for his sins. </p>
<p><em>I’m sorry</em>.</p>
<p>Wonwoo pulls the trigger. He watches Kim Jeonghoon fall. He walks out of the club and drives himself home.</p>
<p><em>All in a day’s work</em>.</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>Kim Mingyu stares at his shop windows, letting himself delve into his own thoughts. He tried to think about how he was feeling. Surprise? Honestly, his expectations were left unsatisfied a long time ago so, no. Furious? Mingyu swore on his precious puppy, Aji, that he wouldn’t feel this way after he broke his pot plants in anger so it couldn’t be fury either. </p>
<p><em>Disappointment</em>, Mingyu chuckled to himself. It was definitely disappointment. He would be having a chat with Seungkwan later today.</p>
<p>He opened his shop door and was immediately taken with the colour of his flowers. The roses sat in the front left corner, closest to the window display, in big bouquets waiting for Valentine’s day in three day’s time. His honeysuckles and lavenders flanking both sides of his shop in vibrant yellows and purples. Red carnations, hyacinths and white lilies line the back shelves as he walks inside, the reds and blues standing out against the white of the lilies. Most importantly, Mingyu’s own orchid sat on the shelf behind his desk, protected from any intruders, guarded by Mingyu himself. </p>
<p>Mingyu loved his little comfort space, his own little heaven on this dying Earth. At least here, in his tiled little shop, he could nurture Earth’s beauties, sustaining them for another day, creating another smile for those who come in.</p>
<p>Mingyu noticed the ticking of his clock on the wall and checked the time, 07:30. His assistant, Boo Seungkwan, was a minute away from being late again, but his backdoor crashing open alerted Mingyu of the younger’s presence.</p>
<p>“I’m not late today, Gyu! It’s only half past seven now!” Seungkwan shouted as he tied his apron behind his back with fumbling fingers.</p>
<p>Mingyu hummed in acknowledgement and moved to help him, straightening his t-shirt and neatening his hair.</p>
<p>Boo Seungkwan had worked for him every summer and on weekends for the past four years since Mingyu started his business. He was a loud mouth, seemingly oblivious and unafraid of the age difference between them and the ultimate hypocrite, always ready to tell Mingyu what he was doing wrong despite doing the same thing only moments before. He was a cheater in poker, a lousy excuse for an assistant, but, most importantly, Mingyu’s best friend.</p>
<p>“You don’t want Hansol to see you looking like a pig, do you? Now go brush your hair, even I can’t fix that sorry excuse for a style,” Mingyu teased as Seungkwan pouted up at him.</p>
<p>“Gyu, don’t be mean! I spent hours washing the windows yesterday,” Seungkwan whined as he made attempts at smoothing down his bangs.</p>
<p>“You did nothing, Seungkwan-ah. All the soap suds dried on the windows because you didn’t bother to wipe them down,” Mingyu argued, filling his jug to start watering his orchids.</p>
<p>“It’s not my fault you chose to buy the shop right next to the music shop and that Hansol was promoting the music shop’s new bluetooth speakers outside yesterday,” Seungkwan mumbled. “But I’ll try again, Gyu,” he promised.</p>
<p>Mingyu sighed and pulled his desk chair out to sit in front of his orchid, pouring small drops of water into its soil. He knew that Seungkwan won’t remember to wash the windows again and that the task will eventually fall on his own shoulders. He could already feel the heat from the sun through the windows and the day had just barely begun.</p>
<p>Mingyu’s mind drifted to late nights partying in Seoul with his colleagues, the stars never shining as bright as they did here in Busan - lights from the sky scrapers silly attempts at imitations of the stars where the clouds blocked their shine - but banished his thoughts as quickly as they formed. He had left that life behind him a long time ago.</p>
<p>He focused on his orchid and could hear Seungkwan humming a tune in the backroom. He could see the street outside coming alive with people, tourists and locals mixing and mingling forming a unified mass of people, some hopefully about to step in. </p>
<p>Mingyu closed his eyes against the sun.</p>
<p><em>All in a day’s work</em>. </p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Wonwoo’s favourite flower has always been azaleas; his favourite place being the mountain on which it is found.</p><p>It’s the place he dreams of after a sin.</p><p><em>Curse me or whatever</em>, Wonwoo scoffs.</p><p>It’s covered in rich purples and pinks spanning miles as far as his eye can see. Though, with his poor eyesight, it’s not a feat. The sky above him is always a pale blue color, cloudless, letting the sun stream through with ease. A cool breeze brushes past him just as his subconscious makes the choice to turn around, taking in the view. He’s on <em>Cheonjusan</em> Mountain in his hometown. Why this is the place his mind travels to when he has committed a deed, even after nine years of taking in nothing more than Seoul’s city lights and urbanism, will forever remain a mystery to him.</p><p>Despite being through the dream a number of times Wonwoo is too ashamed to admit, he still gasps as he watches the land burn in front of him. He still watches as the place he grew to love for it’s preservation of nature and purple vibrancy is turned to ashes. They chase him as he rushes through the flames, feet barely touching the ground as he zips past falling trees and charred leaves. </p><p>When his saviour comes, he isn’t surprised.</p><p>His mother appears, floating down from the picture-perfect sky, and waves the fire away. She smiles and crouches before him, brushing her hand through his hair and cupping his cheek, the metal from her wedding ring cool against his cheeks.</p><p>She opens her mouth, and he knows what she’s going to say, but the coaxing “help yourself” is not what he hears this time.</p><p>Instead, his mother wails in front of him, arms wrapping around herself as tears fall out of her eyes. </p><p>To his horror, he can’t feel anything anymore. He tries holding onto her wrists but he grips nothing. He tries pushing her away but his hands fall right through her. He tries wiping away her tears, his own forming, but it’s of no use. Nothing works and Wonwoo cannot stop her suffering. </p><p>He stays kneeling in front of her, trying to soothe her with words she cannot hear, trying to smile with happiness he cannot obtain, trying to stroke her cheeks with a tenderness he had felt by her touch before. </p><p>When Wonwoo wakes, it’s to his cheeks stained with salty tears and throat choked up. His night after that is always much more peaceful now that he’s got the hang of it.</p><p>He sits up in his bed, leaning against the headboard as he switches on the bedside lamp, the warm yellow being casted on the walls. He puts his glasses on and inhales evenly.</p><p><em>Five things I can see</em>.</p><p>Looking around the room, Wonwoo spots his laptop sitting open on his desk, luckily shut down. He glances to his right and finds the glass of water he left for himself (it’s going to come in handy later). He looks up only to find his glow stars stuck to the ceiling, their dimness an indicator of the low price Wonwoo paid for them. He looks to his left to find his charger, wire uncurled and dangling off his dresser. Wonwoo scans the room and finds himself drawn to a mini picture, framed by a beautiful chestnut wood. It’s azaleas. He chuckles.</p><p><em>Four things I can feel</em>.</p><p>He fists his hands in the soft cotton of his duvet before letting his fingers uncurl gently. He brushes his bangs away from his forehead as the hair tickles the top of his eyelids. Fidgeting, he shifts so that his legs are bent at the knees, trying to compete against the pins and needles attacking his feet. He reaches out to grab the glass of water to stop himself from digging his nails into his palm.</p><p><em>Three things I can hear</em>.</p><p>He sighs deeply and hopes it counts as one because it’s late at night and Wonwoo is alone in his beautiful apartment paid for with sinners money and no one is making a sound. If he strains his ears, he can hear the show playing on TV in the apartment next door, his neighbours apparently not knowing the time of day. He taps his fingers against the glass, the rhythm helping to ground him and give him focus.</p><p><em>Two things I can smell</em>.</p><p>The aftereffects of the nightmare has left him sweating so there’s that; Wonwoo scrunches his nose up - ew no thanks. He makes his way to his bathroom, holding the glass carefully while he grabs his deodorant and sprays himself, the sweet smell of musk filling the air. Oh, much better. </p><p>He stands in front of his bathroom mirror, leaning against his sink. Talk about a sight for sore eyes. </p><p><em>One thing I can taste</em>.</p><p>He licks his lips and proceeds to gulp down the water, the liquid rushing through his body as he emptied the glass. There we go. He can taste the water. All done. </p><p>Wonwoo washes his face as he tries to stop the images of his mother sobbing in front of him from replaying in his head, before making his way to his living room to hopefully get a few more hours of shut-eye. It’s his guilt talking. </p><p>He’s glad he still has a conscience at least. He only hates that it’s in the form of his parents. </p><p>Wonwoo lays down on the couch, covering himself with the throw he had bought on sale a few weeks before. </p><p>Well, there’s nothing he can do about his own twisted mind is there?</p><p><em>One day, your soul will rest, Eomma. I promise</em>.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Mingyu’s first memory is of a boy with long eyelashes. Later, he would call him hyung.</p><p>Choi Seungcheol was the son of his father’s most loyal friend and business partner. He was two years older than Mingyu and even if Mingyu would one day grow to be almost ten(10) centimetres taller than him, he would never forget to remind him of the two years extra lifetime he had.</p><p>He had met Seungcheol at a dinner party he was forced to attend. Unfortunately, his young age and petulancy could not get him a free night in the Kim Manor watching his cartoons and eating all the candy he wanted. So, six-year-old Mingyu found himself in a little navy suit, with the bowtie he chose all by himself, giggling as his father’s friends and potential investors fawned over him. He had wanted to match his dad, but was left disappointed seeing the maroon blazer his father donned instead.</p><p>It was when he caught sight of the snack table that Seungcheol and his father chose to come talk. </p><p>“Ah this must be Mingyu!” Choi Youngho exclaimed heartily, reaching down to pat Mingyu’s head. Mingyu vaguely remembered how the man never hesitated with his affection for others, always ready to offer comfort to others in the form of words or even a simple smile.</p><p><em>Hyung was more like his father than he thought</em>.</p><p>“Yes and is that Seungcheol? Wow, Youngho-yah, he’s grown so much since the last time he dropped by the office!” </p><p>“Well, he’s already eight now! Time really flies, right Mr. CEO?” </p><p>Mingyu turned his gaze to the boy standing across him. He remembered thinking that Seungcheol looked familiar, something about the boy’s features were striking, but before he had a chance to greet the older boy with the bow his father had taught him, his stomach let out a low rumbling sound. </p><p>The two adults glanced down at the sound before Mr Choi let out a bellowed laugh while his father chuckled to himself, his big strong hand pressing down a little harder on Mingyu’s shoulder. Mingyu looked down in shame, but was startled as a hand reached out and grabbed his own.</p><p>“Abeoji, may Mingyu and I please go to the snack table? They have cherry desserts!” </p><p>And thus began their friendship. </p><p>His hyung was a real piece of work to figure out. At first, Mingyu couldn’t help but feel like the older boy only asked to spend time with him out of pity, but, through many shy, reassuring hugs from the older, Mingyu became more confident in his presence, worry of annoying the older with his playful personality disappearing through hours of adventures in the Manor.</p><p>Over the years, the bond between the two strengthened. Seungcheol was gentle, kind and caring and Mingyu could never be more grateful. His hyung was the only one who liked Mingyu for Mingyu. Seungcheol never corrected his etiquette or posture or scrutinised his use of cutlery. And Seungcheol gave the best hugs, arms always open to catch Mingyu and hold him close. </p><p><em>Then Abeoji sent me away</em>.</p><p>The last memory he had of his hyung was when he was seventeen; his father yelling at him to go to his room and pack what he desperately needed while his hyung stood a few metres away, clearly holding himself back from saying anything but wanting to intervene. His hyung always defended him, but never against his father. </p><p>Mingyu had screamed back at his father right there in the man’s office in the Manor, hoping for some reaction, wishing Seungcheol would open his mouth too because it’s just so unfair.</p><p>He had stomped up to his room after, his polished shoes echoing off the marble staircase as he slammed his door open, kicking the edge of his bedpost as he sank to the cold floor. </p><p>Seungcheol had followed him quietly, a shadow behind Mingyu’s rage, and crossed his legs as he sat next to Mingyu.</p><p>“Your father is right, Gyu,” Seungcheol whispered into the space between them.</p><p>Mingyu’s head whipped up at his hyung’s word, hurt and betrayal rushing through him.</p><p>“No, don’t look at me like that, Gyu-ah. You know it’s true.” Seungcheol took a deep breath before continuing. “It’s safer for you if you left, especially with what happened, hmm?”</p><p>Mingyu was seventeen. He hated crying; despised it with every fibre of his being because it was yet another weakness to add to his list.</p><p><em>I loved hyung more though</em>.</p><p>“But what about you, hyung?” He had sniffled, trying to blink away his tears. “I don’t want to go without you.”</p><p>Seungcheol had chuckled. “Oh, you big baby. Hyung will be fine. Just focus on taking care of yourself.”</p><p>He had fallen forward into Seungcheol’s arms then, trying to commit this moment to memory as he smelt cherries and cream, as he felt his head being pat and his back being rubbed. This was Mingyu’s comfort: his hyung’s embracing arms.</p><p>The next morning, he had bowed to his father and left the Kim Manor before sunrise, three rules, set by his father, resting heavily in his coat pocket:</p><p>1. Do not contact anyone unless contacted first.</p><p>2. Do not draw attention to yourself even if attention is given to you.</p><p>3. Do not disappoint your father though your father has disappointed you.</p><p>Mingyu was seventeen. He hated his father; despised him with every fibre of his being for making his son a weakness on his own list. He hated Fate because everything it had generously given him was being taken away, too quickly for his liking. He hated his life for turning out this way, instead of taking a better, more stable path. </p><p>But, most importantly, Mingyu missed his hyung, and would continue to miss him days, months and years down the road. </p><p><em>Take care, hyung</em>.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hello again! Thank you for the kudos on the first chapter! I really appreciate it :)<br/>I hope you enjoyed this chapter too! <br/>Have a great day!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>When Wonwoo woke the second time, it was to the sound of his phone ringing through his apartment, Monsta X’s Dramarama blasting it’s way from the coffee table where he left it last night. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Damn Soonyoung and his knowledge of my password</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Never would Wonwoo ever let Soonyoung, his sorry-excuse-for-a-friend, near his phone again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The song stopped and Wonwoo sighed in relief, throwing his arm over his eyes to block out the sunlight streaming through the window. He glanced at the clock above the TV: 8.00. He only needed to be at work at 12 today so the song, although a brilliant song that Wonwoo would usually enjoy (though Soonyoung didn’t need to know that), was clearly sent by the devil himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wonwoo took a deep breath in, taking a few moments to simply exist in the silence of his apartment. He could hear the sounds of car engines rushing past from a few floors below and the bustle of people as they made their ways to work. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once upon a time, Wonwoo had wished to be a part of them. He longed for a life in which he was settled, where his only worries were getting to work on time and paying his taxes. He wished for the so-called “norm”: going to university to get a degree, working for a few years, meeting someone he loves, settling down into marriage, hopefully a child along the way (Wonwoo always wanted a little girl) and, if time allows, growing old together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>These were his dreams. These were the things he spent cold nights mulling over with only intoxication as company. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It hurt. It hurt to think that, no matter what choice he </span>
  <em>
    <span>could have</span>
  </em>
  <span> made in his past, his crappy ending for his life is inevitable; that, no matter how hard he tries to make up for his mistakes, he won’t ever get his little norm. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But what hurts the most</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Wonwoo thinks bitterly, </span>
  <em>
    <span>is the people taking their little norms for granted. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Wonwoo startles, as Monsta X starts playing again, and pushes himself up from the couch to pick the damn thing up. Whoever is calling probably has a death wish.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he sees the caller ID, he softens. If Junhui was calling, then all was fine. Wonwoo’s work colleague and chaotic platonic soulmate deserved to be answered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Junnie, what’s up?” Wonwoo answered, yawning as he settled down on the couch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wonwoo, have you heard what happened?” Jun replied like he had the most exciting news in the world and Wonwoo could picture him in his office, his feet tapping a rhythm against the wooden floors.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“With?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The chairman, Kim Jeonghoon, was shot and killed at a club in Gangnam last night. Witnesses didn’t even hear a sound,” Jun tells him and Wonwoo smirks to himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ah, the news has spread already.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really? How did that happen?” Wonwoo half-heartedly questions, amused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes! And he even had his bodyguards and vice-chairman Kim Sunghoon with him too. You know, I told him he should have upped his security, especially with the shareholders meeting coming up soon. It’s my fatal flaw; being this smart,” Jun says, smugness dripping through the phone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh shut up! Don’t speak ill of a dead man!” Wonwoo rolls his eyes. “So what’s going to happen now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I don’t know, Won. His brother will probably be acting chairman for a while until the official election. Apparently the chairman has a son around our age so maybe he’ll want to take over, but I really can’t predict what will happen.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happened to intelligence being your fatal flaw?” Wonwoo teased.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yah, Jeon Wonwoo! Have some respect!” Jun yelled into his phone and Wonwoo winced at his volume. “I’m just the law guy at the end of the day.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just the law guy? Jun you’re the companies’ personal lawyer. All their legal shit makes a beeline to you,” Wonwoo points out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah well it pays the bills,” Jun chuckles. “Anyway, I’ll talk to you later Won. The directors want to have a meeting about this whole disaster. Let’s just hope our paychecks won’t be cut. You know, you’re so damn lucky you were chosen to manage the opening of that new store in Busan. I hope you enjoy the stupid seaviews while I deal with the directors and lose a couple of hairs.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, you know how good they are about money,” Wonwoo replies, already moving over to his kitchen to start making breakfast. “Busan is great until you factor in that Soonyoung is joining me too.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I would take Soonyoung over a lost hairline anyday,” Jun pointed out and Wonwoo chuckled as he imagined Grandpa Jun. Nah, Jun won’t age. “Wish me luck for the meeting and don’t forget to eat well for breakfast or I’m going to stuff you full of Minghao’s dumplings at lunch.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>As if you would share your boyfriend’s dumplings</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Wonwoo thought to himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jun, I’m making breakfast right now!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good. Bye kid,” Jun sniggered, and Wonwoo could practically see his smirking face in front of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re literally only a month older than me!” Wonwoo protested but his only answer was the beep as Junhui cut the call.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Wen Junhui, that asshole.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mingyu couldn’t have had a phone call on a worse day. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Turns out, those crowds of locals and tourists mixing together did, in fact, want to step into his shop, and even though Valentine’s day was still three days away, it didn’t stop them from coming in, some to actually purchase while others just browsed (though Mingyu could tell they were just trying to make the most of his air conditioner). </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As the morning grew hotter, Mingyu felt himself being stretched thin as customer’s demanded his attention. First, it was two old ladies wanting to know the meaning of his ‘pretty, precious flowers’ in which he stood for twenty minutes reciting all the meanings behind each flower in his store and answering all their questions, then watching them walk out the door, muttering to themselves about how refreshed they feel. Whether it was because of his departing knowledge of flowers on them or the tirelessly working air-conditioner, Mingyu didn’t know, but he was just glad they left happily.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unfortunately, it only got worse. Later, a little girl, who was tugging at his roses while her mother argued passionately with her husband, pricked her finger on one of the thorns. Although Mingyu clearly had a sign at the front of his shop saying not to touch them, the family still left after receiving an apology from Mingyu and a My Little Pony band-aid. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was after the fifth unfortunate situation and when customers hadn’t come in for the last ten minutes that Mingyu took what he felt was a well-deserved break in his office in the back, leaving Seungkwan to handle the front. It was then that he managed to check his phone, the front screen showing three missed calls every hour, for the last three hours, all from the same number. He knew that number like the back of his hand. An anxious feeling settled in his stomach. What happened to the rules? Should he call back?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As if sensing that Mingyu had time, his phone started ringing. Mingyu let it ring for a while, hesitating, but answered, clearing his throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hyung,” Mingyu greeted, the word feeling foreign in his mouth, years of not saying it disappearing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gyu-ah,” the soft voice replied, always gentle, his hyung was. Mingyu’s heart aches at the nickname.  “It’s been a while.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, hyung,” Mingyu’s voice cracked as he said the word again. Apparently, practice doesn’t make perfect when something means so much.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How are you, kid?” Seungcheol asked, his soft voice clearly trying to appear nonchalant but his concern bleeding through. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine, hyung, and you?” Mingyu replied, tears forming in his eyes the longer they spoke. His mind  brings up forgotten memories of his youth, but he blinks the images away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m okay, Gyu.” And Mingyu’s heart twisted at the name, tears threatening to spill over, but he knew this phone call wouldn’t last long, couldn’t last long, so he wiped his eyes and forced himself to move on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why did you call, hyung?” Mingyu asked, trying to ignore the sniffle he could hear from the other side of the phone. “What’s wrong?” Seungcheol coughed and Mingyu’s heart leaped in worry. “Hyung, are you sick? Is that why you called?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, Gyu-ah. Hyung is fine,” Seungcheol assured. “It’s your father.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mingyu couldn’t help the relief at what his hyung said that flooded his veins, but quickly recovered guiltily as he realised the enormity of the situation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My father?” Mingyu questioned, voice sounding small even to himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seungcheol hummed a yes. “He died, Gyu.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mingyu’s hand shook and he fumbled to catch his phone as it slipped out. He took three breaths in and out, trying to calm himself down before replying.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How? When?” Mingyu mumbled, voice cracking as his eyes spilled over with tears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Last night. He was at a club in Gangnam. Someone shot him, Gyu,” Seungcheol sounded regretful, obviously blaming himself. “I wasn’t there with him. I’m sorry, Gyu-ah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mingyu shook his head, tears spilling even more at his hyung’s guilt. “No, hyung. Don’t blame yourself. It’s not your fault.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seungcheol hummed half-heartedly and Mingyu could imagine him looking out his office windows, in the direction of Busan. Mingyu turned to face Seoul.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s going to happen now, hyung?” Mingyu questioned, wiping his tears from his face as he tried to find out more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your uncle will be taking over as acting chairman until the election. You’ll be given a chance too, Gyu. In fact, many of the directors want you there,” Seungcheol told him and Mingyu’s heart dropped. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll have to think about it, hyung,” Mingyu sounded unsure even to himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Take your time, Gyu. The election is only in three months. They might even postpone it so take all the time you need.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did they find who shot my father, hyung?” he asked, nervously biting at his lip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The police have opened a case. They’re working on it, Gyu. Don’t worry. Take your time in Busan. I’ll message you the funeral dates. It will happen within the next week. You don’t have to come, Gyu-ah, but it will be nice of you, hmm? The rules don’t apply anymore.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, hyung,” Mingyu whispered, tears forming again. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Stupid, emotional tearducts.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, Gyu-ah. Call me if you need me, okay? Hyung is always here for you,” Seungcheol reassured.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Call me too, hyung! I miss you!” Mingyu shakily called out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will, Gyu. I miss you too,” Seungcheol’s fond reply was all Mingyu needed for the tears to burst out as his hyung cut the call. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He buried his face in his hands as he sobbed. All these years spent hiding, all these years spent running away, all these years spent without his father and hyung for the world to come crashing down in a club in Gangnam? Mingyu wished to laugh at the irony of it all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sobbed for the time without his father, the time spent questioning the man’s love for him and the many arguments they had because of his father sending him away in an act which Mingyu once saw as cowardly, but which was protection. He sobbed for his father’s devotion to protecting his family and yet, why couldn’t he protect himself?</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Abeoji, you idiot</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry this chapter is a little late &gt;~&lt;<br/>Hope you enjoy it :) <br/>Have a good day everyone &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The first time Wonwoo experienced loss it wasn’t as tragic as everyone made it seem. He had won a goldfish at the carnival his parents had taken him to. In the moment, and with the joy and pride of winning something resting on his shoulders, the little orange sea-being had seemed the prettiest gold trophy, Wonwoo swearing to himself to protect it forever. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A week later, he found himself distracted by a new book from the library.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Two weeks later, he found his trophy swimming upside down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They had held a funeral for the little guy, but Wonwoo supposed his parents didn’t realise how unbothered he was with the whole thing. Perhaps it was more for their own sake - their son’s first pet died, absolutely tragic. They had finished the day with ice cream from his favourite store and his parents favourite sitcom. All in all, not too terrible of an experience seeing as he got to have his favorite dessert. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s a pity ice cream was present for each loss</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The second time Wonwoo experienced loss he was fifteen. His father had arrived home early that day because Wonwoo had achieved the highest scores in his grade, a title to be more than proud of. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Looking back on it now, Wonwoo could still smell the scent of his mother’s perfume as she hugged him close and could remember looking at his reflection to find stains on his cheeks the color of his mother’s lipstick. He could still hear his father praising him for his grades, wrapping his arm around his shoulder as they all sat on the couch going through the teacher’s comments. He could remember thinking that this is why he studied hard; this is why he pushed himself by going through every example of every question; this is why he read hundreds of books and why his thirst for knowledge would never end. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seeing the happiness radiating off his parents in his mother’s smile as she set his favourite meal down for supper and his father’s knowing wink at him as they started eating, made everything worth it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He went to bed with a happy heart, a full stomach, two kisses to his forehead, too many  “we’re proud of you”’s and  “we love you”’s in every shape and form. Wonwoo went to bed grateful and satisfied with his life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course, he should’ve known that things were going too well for him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He woke to a scream, shrill and sharp piercing the air. The clock on his wall read 2.30am and the sky outside was as black as the feeling of doom settling in his gut. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The rest was a bit like a blur to him, but he could remember periods of time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>2.40am: Wonwoo opens his door, a river of red, sticky liquid is the first thing he sees.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>2.45am: Wonwoo forces himself to look further, only to regret his decision as his parents' sleeping bodies come into view. Why are they sleeping in the middle of the passage?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>2.50am: Wonwoo is holding his father’s shoulders now, trying to wake him up. His dad was always a heavy sleeper, known for sleeping through absolutely anything. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Yet </span>
  </em>
  <span>you</span>
  <em>
    <span> slept through his murder</span>
  </em>
  <span>, his mind supplied but he shut it out it in favour of shaking his dad awake harder, his nails digging into the man’s shoulders.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>2.55am: Wonwoo can hear someone yelling. They’re screaming for his parents to wake up. He’s holding his mother’s hand now, caressing her calloused palms from years spent cooking his favorite dishes, always too busy taking care of him to look after herself. That same red, sticky liquid is staining her lips like her lipstick usually does. He doesn’t like the colour. She should stick to her natural pink.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>3.10am: The old man they invite over for supper sometimes has arrived. The man used to work with his dad. It’s good that he’s here. His dad has a lot of respect for the man. He’ll definitely wake up now. But Wonwoo’s heart falls as he realises what the old man is doing. He’s trying to stop Wonwoo from waking his parents up, pulling on his shoulders, forcing him to move away. Wonwoo tries to yell at him. His parents shouldn’t be sleeping for this long. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>4.20am: Some policemen arrived a while ago. Wonwoo is sitting in the back seat of the old man’s car. He can see them putting his parents in black bags. The old man is talking to the woman who had asked him questions earlier. Wonwoo wants to ask her to give his parents a blanket. His mom’s hands get cold easily.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>5.00am: They’re dead. His parents are dead. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>6.00am: No, they’re going to come back from the hospital in a few minutes, he’s sure of it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>7.00am: They left him alone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>8.00am: It’s a big prank. He’s just going to walk into his house and they’re going to be there enjoying their eggs for breakfast.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>8.30am: He feels like he’s about to throw up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>8.35am: He does.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>12.30pm, a week later: He’s dressed in a black suit. He’s standing by their graves. The old man’s hand is on his shoulder, offering support where words cannot. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>12.00am, a month later: The police have closed the case. The culprit is a 40-year-old man. He killed three other families before he got to Wonwoo’s. Wonwoo guesses it’s just his luck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>12.00pm, the next day: He’s living with the old man now. (It’s what he was talking to the woman about on that day). His food isn’t as delicious as his mother’s, his affection is not as welcomed as his father’s, but he makes the effort and Wonwoo is thankful. The old man, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Harabeoji</span>
  </em>
  <span>, offers him ice cream with a little smirk, proud of having picked up on Wonwoo’s likes. Wonwoo swallows down the choked up feeling in his throat, offers him a small smile, and takes a bite. He tries not to think about better days.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s better not to think at all.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Mingyu tells Seungkwan he’ll be leaving for Seoul the next day, he was expecting his wide-eyed, open-mouthed gasp. Seungkwan was known for his theatrics but, after building their friendship for the last couple years, Mingyu was almost </span>
  <em>
    <span>fond</span>
  </em>
  <span> of them. In fact, he took pride in his own ability to predict every gesture, tone and expression Seungkwan would have.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Perhaps this reaction was what he needed to humble himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” Seungkwan replied in, what Mingyu hoped was not, a </span>
  <em>
    <span>disinterested</span>
  </em>
  <span> tone.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Excuse me?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s it? No loud gasp? No dramatic delicate hand over mouth as tears form in your eyes? Just “okay”? Come on, Seungkwan-ah. You can do better than that,” Mingyu teased, only slightly irritated, as he sat down next to Seungkwan on the bench outside their now locked store.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sun was setting on the horizon, beautiful reds and oranges bleeding out as the sky turned midnight blue. Jihoon’s music shop next door was closed an hour earlier today - something about inspiration in the form of a Coca-cola sale at the convenience store in Haeundae Mall. It meant Seungkwan couldn’t walk with Hansol after work, maybe offer to buy the other a cup of coffee and sit down to bond. Seungkwan has always been a sucker for the hazel-eyed boy but the poor guy is oblivious. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ah, that must be why Seungkwan is out of it</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yah, Seungkwan-ah! Did you not get to talk to Hansol today? Is that why you’re upset?” Mingyu questioned him, lightly shoving at Seungkwan’s shoulder to get a reaction out of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After only receiving Seungkwan’s silence, Mingyu slumped back against the bench, crossing his legs as he turned to apologise. “I’m sorry, Seungkwan-ah. I know today was busy. You can take longer breaks for the next few days while I’m in Seoul and hang-out with Hansol, hmm? I won’t know so I won’t mind.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seungkwan seemed to hear him for the first time then, blinking out of his thoughts and turning to look at Mingyu up and down. Mingyu felt like those specimens being inspected in a lab, like when his father used to come for his awards ceremonies. He didn’t like it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s about to protest when Seungkwan speaks up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gyu, why are you going to Seoul?” he asked straightforwardly, and his tone is expectant. There’s no theatrical hand gestures. Mingyu is stumped. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve got some family business to attend to,” he replied, and it’s not exactly a lie so Mingyu doesn’t feel the need to twist his fingers in the hem of his shirt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I heard everything, Gyu,” Seungkwan admitted, not giving Mingyu the chance to look away as he grasped Mingyu’s fingers between his. He looks down at their interlocked hands sheepishly. “I was coming to ask you for the order book but I heard you busy on the phone so I waited outside and accidentally overheard everything. I’m sorry for your loss.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mingyu is surprised when he doesn’t feel his eyes welling up again. He supposes it’s because he dried them out earlier. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And I know that you don’t like to talk about your life before you came to Busan or your family and friends in Seoul, but I just want you to know, like you should already, that I’m always here. I know I babble a lot, but I’m a grade-A listener when you need me to be, Gyu. I’m willing to bet on it,” Seungkwan promised, offering his pinky finger out to Mingyu.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mingyu let out a breath as he locked his own pinky finger with Seungkwan’s, the two of them sealing the promise before Mingyu pulled Seungkwan into a tight, bone-crushing hug. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, Seungkwan-ah,” Mingyu whispered into Seungkwan’s shoulder before releasing him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seungkwan’s reply was a little nod and a hand lightly shoving Mingyu away as if to say </span>
  <em>
    <span>whatever, just keep that promise</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I would like you to know that I will be taking full advantage of what you said earlier while you’re gone,” Seungkwan sassed, standing up and pulling Mingyu up with him as they walked to their apartment building. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I would expect you to. I’ve been waiting forever for you to make a move on Hansol,” Mingyu sassed back and the offended gasp Seungkwan let out was award-winning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you know how difficult it is falling in love with the most oblivious man in the world? Thank the heavens he’s so talented and funny and gorgeous and smart and-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kind and Mingyu oh when he smiles!” Mingyu finishes, fluttering his hands around like Seungkwan does, and turns to find the latter glaring up at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He smirks down at Seungkwan. “We all know you’re head over heels for the kid. Please put Jihoon-hyung and I out of our misery and just ask him out to his face </span>
  <em>
    <span>directly</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seungkwan shoves him to the side playfully before marching off ahead of Mingyu. “I can’t hear you Gyu! It’s all static in my ears right now!” He stops to turn around and stretch out his hand, a gentle smile on his face. “Come on, Gyu. Let’s go home. I’ll help you pack for tomorrow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mingyu looks up at Seungkwan and can’t help but grin when he grabs the younger’s hand. They continue their trek up Dalmaji Hill to their apartment building, chatting about their friends and how Seungkwan will run the shop when Mingyu is gone, some threats thrown between the two before Seungkwan promises not to burn the shop down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you dare let anyone touch my orchids, Seungkwan!” Mingyu warned, conscious of the way Seungkwan rolled his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As if I would ever, Gyu. I’ll keep them in the back the whole time and I’ll even stick to that schedule you drew up. I’ll be the most diligent I’ve ever been, I swear,” Seungkwan promised as they reach the stairs leading up to their shared apartment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mingyu nodded in reply. Seungkwan knew how much the flowers meant to him. As much as Seungkwan was a wild character, he was Mingyu’s most trusted friend. His friendship with Seungkwan meant a lot to him and Mingyu’s gut told him that the feeling was mutual. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite the struggle of his sudden and unwanted move to Busan, Mingyu had made a home here, and the mischievous smile in front of him was proof of that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Last one in has to wash the dishes!” Seungkwan exclaimed before bolting up the stairs, not even giving Mingyu the chance to recover from his yell. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mingyu shrugged to himself and proceeded to make his way up, taking in the ocean view Dalmaji Hill provided. From here, the mass of blue seemed so far, but Mingyu knew it was reachable. All he needed to do was move closer, but there’s always something pulling him back. There’s always something stopping him from grasping it close. There was always something that had planned another path for him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At the top of the stairs, Seungkwan was doing a little victory dance, looking smug as ever as he twerked in the middle of the passage. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turned away from the blue horizon, and his goals and dreams too, and entered his apartment.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s better not to dream at all</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Wonwoo arrived at the office two days after the Chairman was killed, he did not expect to be greeted by Choi Seungcheol, son of the Vice-President of the company and, better known as, Wonwoo’s most tolerable hyung.</p><p>“Wonwoo-yah!” Seungcheol greeted, much too loud for the grand office lobby with it’s high ceilings and sophisticated business graduates. “Long time no see!”</p><p>Wonwoo rolled his eyes. “Hyung, we met for coffee after yesterday’s lunch. Stop disguising your need for my help.”</p><p>Seungcheol, at least, had the decency to look ashamed. Wonwoo chuckled to himself.</p><p><em>It’d be too difficult for you to hide if you sinned, hyung</em>.</p><p>Wonwoo had first met Seungcheol on his way to Seoul National University for his interview. Back then, Wonwoo was all long bangs, noodle arms and a semi-creased shirt, that is, a recipe for disaster. Adding to that, he had lost his way through the university’s many corridors, so Wonwoo was, to put it simply, a walking mess.</p><p>After many attempts at asking people directions to the interview room and looking at his watch to find there were only fifteen minutes left, Wonwoo had figured that he had only two options:</p><ol class="lst-kix_lqxk7rcbmbo7-0 start">
<li>Run back down to the office and beg the receptionist for help again, risking his pride and lung endurance, or</li>
<li>Keep on asking around until someone miraculously showed him the right path.</li>
</ol><p>Wonwoo couldn’t face the embarrassment of returning to reception. The lady there was harsh when he had asked her the first time. If he went for a second explanation, he may just be ignored. After all, he was only going to be contributing to her salary next year, hopefully.</p><p>Looking back on it now, he must have looked like a madman, running through the prestigious building like that, but he had no regrets because it’s how he met Seungcheol.</p><p><em>Well, more like, crashed into hyung</em>.</p><p>Seungcheol had miraculously known where the interview room was and had taken him there, even going so far as to introduce Wonwoo to the heads of the literature department present. Wonwoo was beyond grateful and it seemed as if Seungcheol was a lucky charm as the interview went smoothly.</p><p><em>As smooth as it can for my unsociable butt</em>.</p><p>When Wonwoo had left the room, the older boy had already left, not leaving a trace behind. It was a pity because Wonwoo had wanted to thank him; he had wanted to offer his help if Seungcheol ever needed it again.</p><p>After looking around for a few minutes, he had decided to leave. His train back to Changwon would be leaving and he needed to get to Seoul Central Station in time. Wonwoo didn’t like to be late.</p><p>Three months later, he received a letter of acceptance from Seoul National University for the Korean Literature course.</p><p>Four weeks after that, he was on his way to Seoul, his bags and belongings in a suitcase above his head, his heart soaring with the possibility of independence and his eyes watching as more opportunities opened up in front of him the further the train traveled.</p><p><em>How does that saying go? Don’t count your chickens before they hatch, right</em>.</p><p>A month after Wonwoo had arrived in Seoul and started the trip to make something great of himself, he found himself going to meet up in one of Seoul’s karaoke bars with students from his class. He had put effort into his dressing that night, not a strand out of place, wanting to make an impression. Harabeoji had once told him that college was where you met your life-long friends, perhaps this was his chance.</p><p>He had waited for an hour outside the place before accepting that they weren’t coming. He had left, hurt and insecure, and had stopped by a convenience store when he had seen them.</p><p>The next thing he knew he was running out of the store with them, feeling like he was flying as the convenience store cashier was left behind.</p><p>They had stopped in an alleyway, leaning against a wall trying to catch their breaths, big grins on their faces as they glanced at each other before bursting out into wild laughter.</p><p>“Yah! Did you see her face? We got her good, Dino!” a boy, the epitome of sunshine, exclaimed, reaching out to high-five a shorter, smiling boy. “Hannie-hyung is going to be so proud of us!”</p><p>“Hyung will be proud of us no matter what we do,” the boy named “Dino” retorted, before turning to face Wonwoo, apparently realising his presence. “Sorry we pulled you into this situation, by the way. The name’s Dino and this is Dokyeom-hyung. We’d like it if you just walked away quietly, hmm?”</p><p>“Yah, Dino-yah! Don’t be so harsh! He seems nice,” Dokyeom scolded, lightly ruffling Dino’s hair to which the younger screwed his eyes shut in annoyance. “What’s your name, kid?”</p><p>“Wonwoo,” he had heard himself say and tried not to slap himself in the face. These kids were clearly delinquents so he shouldn’t have said anything. Actually, he should be dragging them back to apologise and return the goods to the cashier. “Jeon Wonwoo. And I’m pretty sure I’m older than both of you. Born in 1996, kids.”</p><p>What happened to no-social-skills-Wonwoo?</p><p>“Oh, he is! Wow, didn’t know you had a voice, sunbae!” Dokyeom teased, bowing ninety degrees at Wonwoo, to which Dino did the same. “You should join us. We’re going back to our hang-out place. They make mean brownies, if you know what I mean.”</p><p>Wonwoo had joined them. He had gone to their hang-out place, a suspicious looking warehouse, and had been introduced to others. All the people there seemed so free to Wonwoo, living their lives in the moment, never worrying about their futures. He had wanted to be with them. He had longed for a place where he belonged.</p><p>And so he made it.</p><p>Once he realised the level of danger he had joined into, it was too late to go back. Kim Jeonghoon had already left his mark on Wonwoo so he had no choice but to continue. Looking back on it now, he had truly excelled in <em>Jeosungsaja</em>, climbing the ranks until he reached the top, while his grades plummeted, lost and forgotten in the storm that his life had become.</p><p>That’s when he met Seungcheol again. He had messed up a simple mission; he had lost his control in front of the people that his team were supposed to threaten, risking his identity as well as his fellow members. He had known what he needed to do but before he could strike all he saw was his parents bodies on the ground in front of him and had lost it.</p><p>The boss was angry, and he had the right to be. Wonwoo was furious with himself. He would accept whatever punishment that was deemed necessary.</p><p>“Sajangnim, from what I have heard from Han, Wonwoo has been a loyal member for the last three years. This is the first time he has made an, undoubtedly, wrong move. He has provided our organisation with valuable tactics and has presented himself as a rational thinker no matter the situation, always putting our values before his own,” a voice from behind Kim Jeonghoon noted, stepping forward to stand beside the man, giving Wonwoo a wink as he looked up, shocked to see the boy that had helped him all those years ago standing before him in a suit out of a magazine.</p><p>“What do you suggest, S.Coups-yah?” came the gruff voice of the boss and Wonwoo straightened his kneeling form on the floor, posture perfect as he focused on the man’s polished shoes.</p><p>“How about letting him study for a Business Administration degree? Sajangnim will be able to keep an eye on him while he studies at Seoul National University, once he has completed it with perfect grades, he can join the company. I am sure that he will be of use there,” Seungcheol politely replied, bowing to the boss as the man nodded.</p><p>Two years later, he joined the company as an intern, ready to prove himself to the Chairman. He was not going to let Seungcheol down. The Chairman was pleased with his work, as expected, and welcomed Wonwoo into the company. Seungcheol had given him a second chance so he would forever be in debt to him.</p><p><em>Unfortunately, hyung knows that</em>.</p><p>“Listen, Wonwoo-yah, the late chairman’s son has just arrived in Seoul. He’s in my office, waiting to be shown around, but I have a meeting with the director’s in five minutes,” Seungcheol was practically whining at this point, as he pushed Wonwoo in the direction of his office. “So…?”</p><p>Wonwoo rolled his eyes. “Fine, I’ll show the brat around.”</p><p>Seungcheol beamed at him. “Good. I knew I could rely on my smart dongsaeng.” He stopped outside his office. “I have to go now. He just lost his dad so be a little gentle with him, yeah? He’s a big baby.”</p><p>“Whatever, hyung. Just go now,” Wonwoo grumbled, watching as Seungcheol ran towards the conference room. He opened the doors and entered Seungcheol’s office, being careful of the vase that had been gifted to him by a Japanese shareholder that was much too big for the entryway.</p><p>“Who are you?” a soft voice questioned, the person obviously shy and reserved.</p><p>Wonwoo looked up and was rewarded with a living art piece so handsome that, for the first time since he was a child and he was asked whether he loved his mom or dad more, he stumbled on his words.</p><p><em>What in the name of beauty</em>.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>When Mingyu had arrived at Seoul Station for the first time since he was seventeen, he, obviously, had some expectations about what he was about to see. He had hopped off the KTX train and had walked around searching for his hyung while stretching his legs. Even though the ride was only about three hours, Mingyu’s long legs still popped as he walked further.</p><p>Mingyu had known that the station would look different, he had expected it, but he couldn’t help but marvel at the unique design of the roof and openness of the building, allowing enough space for the many people coming in and out. Mingyu had also known that the shops inside the station would be different, however, he couldn’t help but feel disappointed at the lack of his favourite coffee shop. Mingyu had so many memories there, from previous inter-provincial trips with his father, the older man treating him to those chocolate chip cookies that just melted in your mouth.</p><p>So yes, Mingyu knew things would be different because he had expected things to be. It still didn’t make up for the fact that the first words out of his mouth after hugging his hyung, the very man he missed the most, was:</p><p>“Hyung, are you aging?”</p><p>Seungcheol pulled away from the hug, shock written all over his face before it turned to hurt. Mingyu couldn’t blame him. He too was surprised at himself, and was inwardly slapping himself for blurting things out so quickly.</p><p>Luckily, Seungcheol softened, patting his head as if they were eight and six again. “Aww, my Gyu is still the same. You still haven’t learned to filter your words, hmm?”</p><p>Mingyu smiled sheepishly down at his hyung. “Sorry, hyung. I guess you like grey?”</p><p>“It’s silver, Gyu. You better get that right before we reach the office. There’s a rule that anyone heard saying my hair is grey will be rewriting audit reports,” Seungcheol lightly threatened, grabbing Mingyu’s suitcase with his left hand, putting his right arm around Mingyu’s shoulder, guiding him.</p><p>“You’re joking, hyung,” Mingyu chuckled. “You wouldn’t do something that evil.”</p><p>Seungcheol stopped them in their tracks, giving Mingyu a side-eye. “Wouldn’t I?” he whispered, then led them forwards again.</p><p>Mingyu wrapped his left arm around Seungcheol’s more broad frame, giggling at his hyung’s antics.</p><p>The two of them moved swiftly, wanting to beat the traffic since another train had arrived at the same time. They packed Mingyu’s bags in Seungcheol’s fancy car and jumped in, driving out of the parking lot and headed to the head office in Gangnam.</p><p>“Is there a reason we’re going to the office first, hyung?” Mingyu questioned, opening his window to breath in the city air. He’d have to adjust to the lack of sea salt present and get used to the slight pollution.</p><p>“I wanted to show you around the place since, after the funeral, you’ll probably be hanging around there more often. You’d be surprised at how much has changed. Your father hired a professional painter a few years ago to paint the names of all your ancestors in the building,” Seungcheol told him, staring blankly at the road in front.</p><p>“Hyung, I’m done with the jokes now,” Mingyu deadpanned, turning to face Seungcheol. “You can’t be serious.”</p><p>“Why would I joke about that, huh? He said he wanted to connect with his roots, Mingyu, so that’s what we did,” Seungcheol told him, a glint in his eye.</p><p>“Wow, he really did it. You’re not joking,” Mingyu spoke, bewildered. “What did the public think?”</p><p>“Oh, it was all over the news, Gyu,” Seungcheol responded. He lowered his voice a little, frowning just a smidge before speaking in a news reporter voice. “Kim Jeonghoon, Chairman of Pledis Group, has commissioned a professional and elite artist from Italy to paint the names of his elders dating back to the Joseon dynasty on the walls of his office building in Gangnam. Rumours say, the chairman has done this to remind himself of his roots and where he had begun. Without the blessings of the people who came before him, he believes his company would not be able to flourish as it has. What a humble man!”</p><p>When Seungcheol finished, Mingyu clapped mockingly.</p><p>Seungcheol smirked at him, before continuing. “Jisoo covered it.”</p><p>“Jisoo-hyung is a news reporter?” Mingyu gaped at the older. “I thought he wanted to go international with his journalism.”</p><p>“He did but your father needed someone in the press, Gyu. So Jisoo-yah volunteered,” Seungcheol shrugged, appearing nonchalant, but Mingyu could see the muscle in his jaw tense. His hyung wasn’t as subtle as he thought.</p><p>Mingyu felt his own jaw clench. “No, you mean he was forced. Father didn’t give him a choice. Just like he didn’t give you a choice either.”</p><p>Seungcheol glanced his way before sighing. “Let’s not do this now, Gyu, hmm? You just got back. I don’t want you to be upset on your first day.”</p><p>“Sure, hyung,” Mingyu nodded, offering Seungcheol a small smile. “It’s good to see you, hyung. I missed you a lot.”</p><p>“Believe me, I missed you even more, Gyu-ah.”</p><p>After Seungcheol had parked his car in his reserved spot, to which Mingyu teased him dutifully, they made their way to the elevator, Seungcheol pressing the button to the forty-fifth floor.</p><p>Mingyu raised his eyebrows in Seungcheol’s direction to which Seungcheol shoved him lightly, rolling his eyes to hide his chuckle.</p><p>“Oh, shut up.”</p><p>“Wow, hyung! One level below the Chairman’s office! I didn’t know you were such a bigshot!” Mingyu fake gasped before bursting out into laughter as Seungcheol flushed the colour of the cherries he loves to eat.</p><p>They exited the elevator, accidentally bumping into Seungcheol’s secretary, a smaller, smiling boy. Immediately, he dipped into a bow.</p><p>“Daepyonim! I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you,” the younger rushes out, stumbling over his words as he glanced between Mingyu and Seungcheol.</p><p>“Chan-ah, I told you not to be so formal with me. Just call me hyung. Hyungnim, if you really want to,” Seungcheol scolded. He placed a comforting hand on Mingyu’s shoulder. “Mingyu, this is Lee Chan, my secretary. Lee Chan, this is Kim Mingyu. I’m going to be showing him around the office now.”</p><p>Mingyu is glad Seungcheol didn’t introduce him as the chairman’s son. He wouldn’t have been able to manage the whispers about him as Seungcheol took him on the mini tour.</p><p>“But hyungnim, you have a directors meeting in ten minutes. They wanted to talk about the dividend payout rate, remember?” Chan reminded, glancing at Mingyu worriedly.</p><p>Seungcheol, dressed to the nines in his suit and perfectly styled grandpa dyed hair, facepalmed.</p><p>“Great,” he groaned, but scrubbed a hand over his face and leapt into action. “Gyu-ah, I’m sorry. I completely forgot about the stupid meeting. I’ll get one of my colleagues to take you around, okay?”</p><p>Mingyu nodded, squeezing his hyung’s hand comfortingly. “I understand.”</p><p>“Thank you,” Seungcheol smiled, before turning to Chan, the kid standing there awkwardly. “Chan-ah, take Mingyu to my office. I’ll go get Wonwoo before I head to the meeting. Tell the directors I’m running a little late, okay?”</p><p>“Yes, hyungnim,” Chan replied, already leading Mingyu to Seungcheol’s office.</p><p>“Oh and Mingyu!” Seungcheol yelled, while waiting for the elevator. “Be nice to Wonwoo, okay? He’s a good kid. He’ll seem a little cold but he’s a big softie.”</p><p>Mingyu stuck his tongue out at his hyung before entering Seungcheol’s office, going to sit on one of the leather couches, making himself comfortable.</p><p>Ten minutes later, the door to the office opens and a man enters hesitantly, being careful not to open the door too wide to avoid knocking off a pretty vase that was too big for the entryway.</p><p>“Who are you?” Mingyu tries to call out, but he’s always been a little scared to talk to strangers so the words come out softer than expected.</p><p>It’s when the man looks up that Mingyu feels himself freeze.</p><p><em>It can’t be</em>.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>If Wonwoo was a bit more dignified, perhaps he would’ve had the decency to at least close his mouth. The truth is that he is definitely not, so really, he doesn’t blame the most handsome man alive from flinching away from his stare. He watches as the other starts to bite the inside of his cheek, almost as if he was amused(<em>huh?</em>), to which he becomes self-aware and straightens up.</p><p>
  <em>Damn, he’s really cute. Is he smirking?</em>
</p><p>“I’m Jeon Wonwoo. I’m supposed to take you around the company building now,” he replies, elegant as ever as he sticks a hand out for a respectful handshake, despite the now clear amusement on the other’s face. Oh no, he doesn’t have this.</p><p>The other smirks again (<em>damn, is there something on Wonwoo’s face? Maybe Soonyoung is right; he is his own embarrassment</em>) before recovering, eyes growing in shock as he stares at Wonwoo.</p><p>“Wow, I knew we would meet again! Do you not remember me? What happened to your memory? Did it disappear so suddenly? How funny that we find ourselves in a similar situation,” the other teases, eyes twinkling and sharp canines pointing over his lower lip as he grins.</p><p>“I’m sorry, but I don’t. Maybe you’ve confused me with someone else,” Wonwoo hears himself stutter, and damn, Soonyoung and Jun would be rolling on the floor laughing if they saw him. He can already hear their teasing <em>what happened to stone-cold businessman Jeon Wonwoo?</em> ringing in his ear.</p><p>The other giggles before shaking Wonwoo’s still raised hand. Wonwoo can feel the tips of his ears turning red and he curses his stupid genes before looking up to see Mingyu’s ears turning a pretty pink. <em>Huh</em>.</p><p><em>If I ever have a choice in my death, let it be by your cuteness</em>.</p><p>“Unfortunately, there’s no way I could forget that face. I’d have thought you’d remember mine from the way you were staring that night in Jeju, but I guess not. I’m Kim Mingyu, by the way, since you don’t remember,” Mingyu says, and his lips form a pout that makes Wonwoo turn quickly to face that Japanese vase that seriously needs to be replaced but which Wonwoo finds is a great distraction from imminent death by heart fluttering.</p><p>
  <em>Night in Jeju? That business trip he took to set up the store? But the hangover from the celebration wasn’t even that bad and Soonyoung had told him that nothing crazy had happened. Why had he trusted Soonyoung to remember though?</em>
</p><p><em>Play it smooth, Jeon Wonwoo</em>.</p><p>“Ah, I apologise for my memory. It seems it doesn’t remember the important bits. It is definitely a shame that I do not remember, but perhaps you could enlighten me?” Wonwoo asked, tilting his head at Mingyu, the other flushing before shaking his head no.</p><p>“Let’s just say you’re an emotional drunk, hmm?” Mingyu giggled at what Wonwoo knows is now his own flushed cheeks.</p><p><em>I’d blush every day if it meant hearing your giggle, Mingyu-ssi</em>.</p><p>Wonwoo straightened his suit jacket before clasping his hands together. “Let’s start the tour, shall we?”</p><p>The tour started off incredibly well and Wonwoo has to admit that, despite the other’s intimidating height coupled with his gorgeous visuals, Mingyu was, as Seungcheol had said, a big baby. Wonwoo had decided to start with the administration department, where he knew he’d find Seungcheol’s new secretary Lee Chan. The boy had been surprised to see them so soon and had introduced Mingyu to the whole department fairly quickly, leaving his title behind. Wonwoo could see the taller grateful for that move in the cute little sigh of relief he released, and was proud of Chan for being so observant. The tour went more or less the same for the HR department (where Mingyu received a printed and laminated version of the company’s etiquette and rules), the PR department (where one of the interns excitedly babbled about the company’s events that were planned for the rest of the year) and the Marketing department (where Mingyu was gifted a keychain and hoodie from the company). Wonwoo is sure those were failed products but Mingyu looked so happy getting gifts, his eyes practically shining from their sockets, that Wonwoo didn’t have the heart to tell him.</p><p>Of course, the Law department would be where things went awkward.</p><p>The presence of Junhui did not help at all. In fact, Wonwoo would go as far as to say Jun was the catalyst.</p><p>“Wonwoo! Long time no see!” Junhui exclaimed before dragging him down to mess up his hair.</p><p>
  <em>What is it with these hyung’s and them acting like we don’t live within five minutes from each other’s apartments?</em>
</p><p>Wonwoo poked Jun’s sides causing the elder to squirm away, freeing Wonwoo from his grasp. When Wonwoo looked around, Mingyu was chuckling to himself at their antics.</p><p>“We have a visitor, Jun. Would it kill you to act sophisticated during work hours at least?” Wonwoo exclaimed, guiding Mingyu into the office properly. “This is Kim Mingyu. Mingyu-ssi, this is Wen Junhui, the company’s personal attorney. All, and I mean all, the company’s legal deals go to him.”</p><p>The latter raises his eyebrows in surprise, mouth forming a tiny ‘o’ shape before he nods, extending his hand hesitantly to Junhui. “It’s nice to meet you Wen Junhui-ssi.”</p><p>Jun raises one of his own stupid eyebrows at Mingyu in return, a clear sign of his good-natured teasing, before slapping Mingyu’s hand away and pulling the tall boy into his arms for a hug.</p><p>(<em>Well wouldn’t it be nice to do the same? Damn Wonwoo and his professional image he has to maintain in the office!</em>)</p><p>Mingyu yelps and Junhui lets go of him, patting his back as the former shies away from him, face turning a pretty pink as his eyes try to find something to focus on. Wonwoo watches as he recovers, chuckling at Jun while backing away to stand next to take his place next to Wonwoo. His fingers brush over Wonwoo’s own and Wonwoo hears the sharp intake of air as he pulls his hands away. He pretends not to take offence to it.</p><p><em>It’s just my cold hands</em>, Wonwoo reminds himself, <em>he just didn’t expect the icy temperature</em>.</p><p>At the corner of his eye, he could see Junhui observing the whole thing, while Mingyu swayed nervously on his spot, his hands wringing the hem of his shirt. Wonwoo will have time for payback later.</p><p>“Well Jun, we’ll catch up with you soon. Cheol-hyung should be done with his meeting in a few minutes so I should get Mingyu back up to his office,” Wonwoo hurriedly spoke, hand already guiding Mingyu back to the elevator, pressing the button for their level.</p><p>“Oh, but Wonwoo, the meeting only ends in-”</p><p>“Alright, later Jun! I know you have those important documents for the new store in Busan due soon!” Wonwoo yelled as he all but shoved Mingyu into the lift, following behind him quickly, all while repeatedly pushing down on the close button.</p><p>“But Wonwoo I fini-!”</p><p>The doors shut in front of them and Wonwoo sighed in tired victory, leaning against the mirrored walls of the elevator.</p><p>Next to him, Mingyu copied his stance, observing their reflections in the mirror on the ceiling. He tilted his head upwards, a smile blooming on his face as their other selves greeted him too.</p><p>There was a nagging feeling at the back of Wonwoo’s mind every time he so much as felt the others presence. Wonwoo felt the urge to respond to the others every call, felt the need to react to the others every expression and felt the desire to keep the others smile of his face.</p><p>It was, to put it straight, weird and unsettling.</p><p>For the last decade or so, Wonwoo has only needed to rely on himself. Yes, Harabeoji had tried his best and had offered the support that teenage Wonwoo had been told he should be grateful for and, in all honesty, he had, however, at the end of the day, his most trusted companion was himself. Yes, he had friends he could trust since they shared similar traumas (<em>read: Jeosungsaja</em>) but well, Wonwoo had taken care of his trauma by himself already (<em>read: killing the leader of Jeosungsaja</em>). So why did he feel the need to spend time with this man? Surely one night in Jeju couldn’t have impacted him that much?</p><p>His thoughts are interrupted by the elevator doors opening and Mingyu’s sparkly eyes turning to him, almost as if waiting for his lead. Wonwoo managed what he hoped was the slight upturn of his lips and not a grimace and gestured for the taller to exit first. They walk back to Seungcheol’s office, Wonwoo still a little overwhelmed with his thoughts to make conversation and Mingyu probably still too shy to initiate it. What happened to the brash accuser from before?</p><p>It’s when they’re both sitting on Seungcheol’s leather couches opposite each other that Wonwoo takes pity on Mingyu’s shirt hem and his own curiosity.</p><p>“So, what exactly did happen in Jeju that night?” he asks casually, his voice echoing off the office walls.</p><p>Mingyu’s eyes widen and he coughs before sitting up a little straighter, body more rigid while his hands fold themselves over his lap before he answers, stumbling over the syllables in his rush to explain. “Well, it’s a long story which, now that I think about it, could lead to a few misunderstandings about me that you wouldn’t want to have. So, really, it’s better that you forgot.”</p><p>Wonwoo chuckles to himself before leaning forward a little. “That could be so, but seeing as how you reacted so passionately, I’m sure it would be fun to remember.”</p><p><em>Wow, I will never get tired of seeing you blush</em>.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>If there was one person in the whole world that Mingyu was grateful for, it would be his Cheol-hyung. This is evident in the way that Mingyu doesn’t rely on the expression “saved by the bell”, but prefers “saved by Seungcheol” instead.</p><p><em>Hyung really has perfect timing</em>.</p><p>The door to the office swinging open shocks Jeon Wonwoo out of his smug state on the leather couch and Mingyu can’t help the feeling of victory flooding through his body.</p><p><em>This other side of you is so very different, Wonwoo-ssi</em>.</p><p>See, like a lot of Mingyu’s nights that ended with his face down the toilet seat, throwing up his guts, it all began with Seungkwan.</p><p>They had worked tirelessly through the Christmas holidays, organising so many orders and deliveries that as soon as the Christmas rush was over, both he and Seungkwan had crashed at their apartments for a solid fifteen hour sleep. Even their Jihoon-hyung had left multiple missed calls trying to find out how they were doing and had eventually sent Hansol as their alarm clock.</p><p><em>Seungkwan had been a blushing mess</em>.</p><p>So as a reward for working so hard, and also because his mother had kept nagging Seungkwan to bring his friends back home, Seungkwan had invited Mingyu, Hansol and Jihoon to his home in Jeju.</p><p>Seungkwan’s mother had been thrilled to finally see them all again and had prepared a feast for when they arrived. She had made all their favourite foods and had arranged the spare room for Jihoon-hyung and him to share while Hansol and Seungkwan would share Seungkwan’s old room. Mingyu had given Seungkwan a subtle wink to which he had received a harsh nudge to his gut, but at least Jihoon-hyung had consoled him a little.</p><p>Their week in Jeju had been more than fun and they had enjoyed relaxing together on the beautiful beaches, however, it was their last night that left an embarrassing mark in Mingyu’s memory.</p><p>They had gone out to enjoy their last night with another walk on the beach when Seungkwan had suggested going to a karaoke bar instead. They had all agreed, wanting to loosen up just a little bit more before leaving back for Busan the next day. And anyway, one karaoke bar couldn’t hurt, right?</p><p>Before he knew it, Mingyu found himself in their third club of the night, surrounded by too many bodies as he watched his friends leave him behind. He quickly pushed past a young couple sloppily making out and had to hold in a grimace. <em>Ugh, way too much tongue.</em></p><p>He made his way to the bar, passing by a drunk Seungkwan and a sober Hansol, Hansol trying to keep Seungkwan from moving over to the dancefloor again, and a sober Jihoon-hyung listening to a man with slanted eyes ramble about something before leading his hyung to the middle. Wow, even Jihoon-hyung is having a good time.</p><p>It seemed like someone higher up was having mercy on him because the bartender greeted him with a bright eye smile and offered his drink on the house. As he waited for his drink though, Mingyu felt someone’s gaze focused on him, so he turned in the direction.</p><p>Now, here’s the thing, Mingyu is well-aware of his good looks. From the time he was a baby toddling around the Manor to the times when he had to attend events as the Kim heir, everyone always praised him for his handsome, sometimes even pretty, features. It doesn’t help that his social and kind personality appeals to people. So yes, he knows he looks good.</p><p><em>It’s different when he is being looked at like that though</em>.</p><p>The first thing he notices about the man watching him is the man’s slitted eyes focused on him. He finds himself absorbed in them, not able to look away unless to take in the rest of the handsome face. The man’s eyebrows are dark, a stark contrast to his pale complexion, and are furrowed a little as he takes a sip of his drink and glances back at Mingyu.</p><p>It’s at this moment that the bartender comes back to give Mingyu his drink with one of those cute umbrellas in his glass. Mingyu breaks his gaze away from the man and is engaged in a conversation with the bartender about his stay in Jeju. Eventually the bartender leaves him and he turns to try to find the mysterious man only to find him right behind Mingyu.</p><p>“Oh damn! You startled me!” Mingyu exclaimed, hand coming up to clutch at his heart, as he recovered from the shock.</p><p>The man shrugged and took a seat next to him, chair wobbling as he sat. Once again, he turned to face Mingyu properly, squinting at Mingyu with those dark orbs. <em>Oh, please ask me for my number</em>.</p><p>“Do you know me?” the man asks, squinting at Mingyu, almost sussing him out.</p><p>Mingyu chokes on his apparent just plain coke.<em> Ah, this is why the drink is free. No alcohol</em>.</p><p>“Ahh, excuse me. No, I didn’t think I did, do I?” Mingyu awkwardly replies, all too aware of the way he’s making the worst impression on handsome Mr Dark Orbs.</p><p><em>Yes you do Mingyu, I’m your prince ready to sweep you away</em>.</p><p>The man’s eyes fill with tears and his lower lip juts out in a pout, trembling as he slams his head onto the hardwood of the bar table. The concern that grows in Mingyu’s chest is alarming.</p><p>“Hey, no, what’s wrong? I’m sorry if I forgot you; my memory is really terrible sometimes! What’s your name? Maybe I’ll remember it!” Mingyu tries to comfort the other by patting his back.</p><p>“See, you don’t even know my name!” the man sobs into his hands, before whipping his head back up to look at Mingyu again. “No-one cares that I worked overtime for two weeks straight trying to make the opening of the store perfect! I’m just the guy at the office!”</p><p>“Hey, I’m sure you’re more than that! I know you did a great job!” Mingyu affirms the man, who turns to face him, melting Mingyu under his gaze.</p><p>“You really think so?” the man whispers, sounding in awe of Mingyu, so what else can Mingyu say but yes?</p><p>“I know so,” Mingyu nods and pats the other’s head.</p><p>It takes five seconds for the man’s smile to grow wide.</p><p>It takes two seconds for Mingyu to notice how his eyes keep rolling to the back of his head, all previously focused gazing at Mingyu gone.</p><p>If Mingyu had been three seconds too late, the man would’ve fallen to the floor, attracting the attention of the whole club. Mingyu’s social anxiety would have not been able to handle it.</p><p>This leaves Mingyu with his arms full of a passed out drunk, overworked handsome man whose soft breaths tickle Mingyu’s ear as he snores.</p><p>The rest of the evening is exhausting. Mingyu’s just glad his friends had fun.</p><p>Luckily for him, Handsome Man had a hotel keycard in the backpocket of his too-fancy work pants along with a wallet full of cash.</p><p>No, Mingyu did not steal it.</p><p>It just came in handy for the taxi ride to the hotel (in which the other’s head lolled on his shoulder and the taxi driver kept stealing glances at the two of them through the rearview mirror), for the two bottles of water that Mingyu bought from the hotel’s convenience store (which was a poor decision because the convenience store on the street was 1000 won less), for the mini bottle of aspirin (which he left on the other’s nightstand after tucking him in, trying to ignore the way the other kept pouting in his sleep) and for his own taxi ride back to the Boo’s household (so maybe he did steal a little bit, but really it’s just a token of thanks).</p><p>Mingyu had debated leaving his phone number for when the man wakes up, but had decided against it last minute. He had a feeling they would meet again.</p><p>
  <em>Until next time.</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I am so sorry this is late! To those of you who have left comments and kudos, thank you!<br/>I hope you all enjoyed this chapter &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello everyone! This is my first work. Hope you enjoyed it!<br/>Please leave comments, I'd really appreciate it :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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